


immovable objects, unstoppable forces

by thedevil_andgod



Category: Divergent - Fandom, Insurgent - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death Fic, F/M, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 00:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevil_andgod/pseuds/thedevil_andgod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You didn't belong in his world. He didn't belong in yours. You both knew that, you always did. But it didn't stop the pain from cutting deep into your chest like a hacksaw when the day finally arrived, the time for goodbyes dawning all too soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	immovable objects, unstoppable forces

You didn't belong in his world. He didn't belong in yours. You both knew that, you always did. But it didn't stop the pain from cutting deep into your chest like a hacksaw when the day finally arrived, the time for goodbyes dawning all too soon. 

Eric was a traitor. You were an idle hand to the Divergent's cause, working from within Erudite, desperately trying to balance doing the right thing, and keeping him by your side. Of course, he suspected you were a leak, a spy, a member of the opposite side masquerading as an Erudite supporter. But he never let on to Jeanine that he believed this, never brought it up during their midnight meetings, savouring the time you had for hard, passionate kisses, awed touches and exchanging words, dreams. Only under the moon would you allow yourself to pretend; to take a dip into the fragile world of make believe, and speak of wishful futures neither of you would get. You spoke of adventure and love, and living together and being together until the very end of each other's lives. Maybe that last one wasn't such a far stretch after all, and maybe you both knew that, too. 

When Eric begins hunting for the one Divergent Jeanine wants more than anything - Tris - you insist on joining them, but not so you could warn your allies and give them time to run, but for selfish reasons. You needed to cling to every second you had together, running hand in hand, it didn't matter to you that he was running towards becoming a murderer, the murderer of your own friends - at least, you told yourself it didn't matter, it was easier to ignore the grief and pain and guilt in favour of the warm, encompassing love you felt whenever his arms were securing you to his chest, his lips pressing secrets to your skin, whispers painting the night; _i love you, i love you, i love you_. You help him find the remaining Dauntless hiding out in Candor, but let go of his hand and run, away from him, from his gun and the bullets soaring through the air. If you could only get to Tris, and Four, then maybe, just maybe, you could get them out, and everything would be - what would it be? Not okay, you know that much, you know that nothing will ever be okay again - but maybe you'll get a few more days, a couple more weeks - it's so goddamned selfish, how many people are you willing to let die in order for you to keep the man you love alive? Four says Eric is not a man, but a monster, but you know his words stem from fear. The fear that, deep down inside, Four has the capability to become like his father, he tries to deny it, tells himself he's better 'cause he's human, his father wasn't, couldn't be, but he is, we're all only human, and that terrifies the ever living fuck outta anyone who's ever dealt with someone like Marcus, someone like Eric. Both evil, in different ways. Like Caleb, he's evil, and Peter, but all at varying levels, there's no one out there who is the same. Maybe you're the true monster, you haven't directly murdered anybody but you haven't stopped Eric or Four from using their guns, maybe you're the most evil out of everyone. Out of breath, you find them, but it's too late. Four and Tris have successfully taken the upper hand once more, and you know that your time has run out.   
Eric is on the floor, wrists bound behind his back. He looks at you like it's the last time he will ever see you again - it is the last time he'll ever see me again, you realise - and it takes every tiny bit of willpower inside of you not to take your own gun and shoot Four instead of allowing him to do what you know he must. 

It takes longer than you would have expected. Four questions Eric persistently, wanting to know why Jeanine wants Tris, why she's so afraid of Divergent's, when he could ask you and be given the same answers. It's only when Eric moves his eyes from yours to lock with Four's as he says _'Look, I've found a way to live with the blood on my hands. Can you?'_ , that you understand. Four doesn't want to keep killing, Four never wanted this, never wanted crimson stained palms; Eric didn't care either way, but Four never wanted this at all.   
Eric wins anyway, because he's smirking up at Four, who cannot answer, because he does not have the answer. You see his hand reach for the gun strapped to his waist. You step forward, and the black, dark barrel ends up facing you.   
You can't help but laugh; you've been betraying Eric and Jeanine since the start of this whole damn war, and he has the audacity not to trust you?   
You say this to his face and his jaw tightens, more guilt flashing across his features before they set like stone once more. You kneel before the man you love - _I'd love him, even if he were a monster, you think_ \- placing your hand against his cheek, so soft, so warm. Your lips meet chastely, one last taste, one last moment, you're drawing out the seconds and you hear Four sighing impatiently but you don't give a damn, nothing and no one will take away your final moment with Eric, no one. Pressing your forehead to his, you let him mouth the words against your collarbone, the words he never had to say because you knew, you knew from the start, from the way he looked at you and touched you, as though you were made of glass and could shatter at any moment, you knew that he loved you, and he knew that you loved him. You say the words anyway, into his ear, before standing up and backing away, keeping your eyes glued to his huddled form on the floor. You don't break the gaze until he has to; because his eyes are now glassy and visionless. He cannot see you, and for all you've fought to be alive right now, you wonder if you shouldn't have. You don't entertain that thought for long, knowing in your bones that you could live a life without him, and also knowing the few months you got to share were worth the pain, the scars that would never heal and the side of the bed that would never be warm again. Tris asks if you want a moment alone, to say goodbye, but she doesn't understand you said goodbye a long time ago, at the start of this civil war. You knew the time was limited, you knew it would end this way, one of you left behind to make their choices alone. That isn't Eric lying on the floor, blood pooling on the floor as it leaks from his temple, no. That's a shell, an empty shell. Eric is gone, it is Four who has taken him, in a way, though, you know he's not 100% to blame. Yes, he pulled the trigger, but Eric chose the wrong side, Eric chose the bad guys and if you are all supposed to be the good guys in this, you think, maybe we should all be killed because this world is fucked no matter which side wins.   
Four explains the plan to side with the Factionless, and when he asks where you're going, you find that you neither know, nor care. Without Eric this war is pointless, for you, you don't give a damn which side wins - until meet Uriah's eyes, your best friend, the boy with the brilliant smile and who you've just realised is Divergent (he was awake when the rest were asleep; like Tris) and you understand that yes, you do care, because these are people's goddamn lives and maybe Eric didn't care, but just because you loved him didn't mean you had to agree with his views. He knew better than anyone you were polar opposites when it came to the issue of divergence, and it had never mattered because he loved you enough to not care.   
But Eric is gone and you're alone, only if you go back to Jeanine. Staying with Uriah, with Tris, and Four and Tori, it means you're not alone, it means you get your family, you know they want you back, you know they'll take you back because they love you too, as much as he did. They don't hate you for choosing him; how could they? You used your love to help them, to feed information from the heart of Jeanine's operation.   
No matter how much it hurts, you need to do what is right. Tucking away your grief for later - nobody is more skilled than you than shutting down unwanted emotions - you take Four's hand and let him lead you underground, thinking with every step you take, _hey, if I'm going down, I'm going down for my cause. No one else's. Not even Eric's, and that's okay. He'll understand, and when I see him again, it will be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little angst filled one shot, inspired by my own late night musings and listening to sad songs. Hope you enjoy!   
> Comments/kudos are appreciated:)


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